Somewhere Out There
by even lovers drown
Summary: Fleetingly, he wishes there was a song for this – there seems to have always been some song for whatever the situation. But they're adults now and it feels amiss to soft-pedal something this serious with a whimsical melody.


**Somewhere Out There  
**

_They'll need to trust themselves, the stars, and all the things they've always known. _

.

Gabriella doesn't believe she is actually singing. In front of people, not passing out, with a cute boy no less. She's found an instant recipe for courage: pure fear, a room full of strangers, a song to sing, and a pair of captivating blue eyes.

Troy believes he has met an angel. This divine being for whom the stars shine.

.

Gabriella believes in love. That there is someone out there to be her better half, to show her she can break free of her labels and define herself as she chooses, to take her on late night swims, to waltz with her on secret rooftop gardens, to tell her that good-byes can be good-nights, to follow her when she runs, driving a thousand and fifty-three miles to bring prom to her. She calls him Wildcat and he is the best thing that she's ever stumbled on stage with on a snowy New Year's Eve.

Troy doesn't believe there is anything to tear him away from the person who inspires his heart. So he ignores his new teammates' blatant dubiety and teasing jeers, and climbs a tree (evading the Bears) because he sees things more clearly from up here. He calls her, and they talk into the night, staring at the same moon, their bright constant amidst that endless sky.

.

Troy believes his coaches and professors are out to get him. He embraces the thrilling challenge of it all, but still. Blurry days without her pass him by until seeing a little white dress in the bleachers brings everything back into focus.

Gabriella believes Troy is preoccupied with something during their date. He usually is, as of late, forgetting to return emails, sounding distant, almost unreachable, over phone calls. He catches her gaze and a hug cures her ephemeral worries.

.

Troy doesn't believe he has changed that much. But Gabriella inadvertently tells him he has, only a little bit, it's not something big, just something she's noticed, just disregard it all. He suspects that she feels a little put out by his new friends at his new job, so he tells her not to worry because they're jerks who can't treat a pretty lady with respect. He'll chide them tomorrow, he promises. No one gets to talk to his Water Bug like that.

Gabriella believes she can handle the stress, honestly. Troy calls, but their conversation later meanders into some place they really don't need to be. "No distractions? So I'm a distraction. Right." / "No, you're not. I never said–" / "And your new LSAT study buddy–" / "He only studies with me–" / "And you get coffee and go to–" / "We need breaks, sometimes, Troy." / "Well, I thought I could–never mind." / "What? What is it?" / "Nothing." / "Are you sure?" / "Yeah. It's nothing." / "You're never nothing. You know that, right?" / "I know."

.

Troy believes his old, trusted truck has reached its limit. It croaks to an eternal stop just as he manages to steer it toward the side of the road, with half the journey behind him, half the journey ahead. Sixteen point three five miles in either direction. He's reached a point where he's no longer sure which way to go.

Gabriella doesn't believe their past can just dissolve away in life's tribulations. But it's not like kindergarten anymore. Band-Aids and apologetically-sent flowers don't fix underlying problems. Underneath stacked textbooks lays the forgotten simplicity of right here, right now. The demands of adulthood brushes aside an old promise about no mountain being too high and no ocean too wide. They're still young with too much commitment being demanded from their fragile relationship. But, hey, they're still young; they have time.

.

Troy doesn't believe she is off to New York. Columbia Law School, another winner of her heart. It promises to lead her to the successes she's worked toward her entire life. And as a wise father once told him, "There's nothing wrong with keeping your eye on the prize. (In fact, if you don't, you get left behind.)"

So he takes her to The Overlook (their new secret hideout, which works because they are in a high place surrounded by foliage). They frequented this scenic location to simply be Freaky Math Girl and Freaky Callback Boy again, to indulgently ignore the rest of the world.

He glances out at something bigger than high school, dinner dates, and summer jobs ever were. His words don't quite form the way he wants them to. Fleetingly, he wishes there was a song for this–there seems to have always been some song for whatever the situation–but they're adults now; it feels amiss to soft-pedal something this serious with a whimsical melody.

His thoughts stumble out eventually: "I think that taking a break would help us."

Gabriella believes this break won't be like the other breaks. Not as small, more uncertainty. She runs a hand through his hair, presses a kiss to his cheek. "We'll keep in touch," she says, her voice soft but raspy, strong but faltering. The sound of crickets gets too overwhelming after a while, so they throw their fate to the stars and only whisper hopeful good-nights. The moon follows each of them home.

.

Troy believes that real men don't cry. His eyes water anyway.

Gabriella believes in happy endings. (Not happy? Not an ending.) She packs her bags and vows not to let work steal her soul. Busy cities and long ribbons of road fill the space between them. She remembers the days when calculating exact distances used to be their thing.

.

Gabriella believes they tried. Their friendship endured the country mile until it didn't. And, simply, their ties withered away. One day, persuaded by a sudden bout of regret maybe, she calls his number, but a woman tells her it's the wrong one, to "please hang up and try again." So she does. It only makes sense. He's come after her before.

Troy doesn't believe she's there. But she must be. Her face would always be the most recognizable out of all his erstwhile high school classmates. With life's currents finally in their favour, he wonders what she's been up to these past few years. Having lost touch, he can't make any assumptions. Other than, perhaps–

"Miss me?"

.

They are not sure what to believe except for one simple, invariable truth: "Of course I did."

Troy believes that anything can happen when you take a chance.

* * *

_So I laced some of our favourite High School Musical quotes in there. For me it was nostalgia galore. I hope you've enjoyed reading this and I'd really love to hear your thoughts, if there were any lines you enjoyed or parts that seemed out of place._


End file.
